


Constant

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, First War with Voldemort OR Second War with Voldemort, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-18
Updated: 2006-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Loneliness had been a constant in his life.





	Constant

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Thaks to OHGinnyfan and Annika for the betas.

* * *

Loneliness had been a constant in his life.  Growing up, loneliness had been the only thing that had never abandoned him.  And later, surrounded by people – his best friends, his guardians – he had remained isolated and acutely aware of his seclusion.   It was no longer the mellow slide into tears and darkness and cramped cupboards, but the sharp twinges that happened when he could feel happiness just around the corner.  It was more than he’d ever been allowed before.  He thought he’d always be content to bask in the afterglow of its light.  

Then she happened. 

Like the slow slide and the sharp sting all at once; someone he’d known for five years and someone he’d only just discovered.  

He glanced at the plastic Muggle wristwatch strapped on his arm, its neon numbers glowing dimly in the darkness.  At her request, he’d purchased it in the village just before he’d left in search of his fate.  He’d spent the money for this very moment when every night - like clockwork - it heralded the witching hour with a sharp beep charmed for his ears alone.

The sickly green colour, so familiar, was forever the cause of his loneliness.  He thought it fitting that it was responsible for his moments of comfort as well. 

He closed his eyes.

She’d been the one, after all, to steal his constant isolation and replace it with obsessive Quidditch talk and bright eyes, with pranks and breathless whispers and laughter that poured over his soul like thick, smooth chocolate.

Maybe a part of him had been unwilling to relinquish the companionship of his solitude; it had been his only friend before he'd known what the word meant.  He’d resisted even this small token of her affection – _remember me at midnight_ – believing it would give them away.

“I boxed up my dolls the summer I turned twelve,” she’d told him, “because it seemed silly to cling to childish symbols I’d never really wanted in the first place.”

Her eyes had been solemn and knowing, unforgiving and relentless.  

“Can you wait for me?” As his head rested on her shoulder, minutes before dawn would take him away, he’d already known her answer.

“I locked away my dolls,” she’d whispered, “but I never locked away my heart.”

With his eyes shut, he could picture her clearly: a little child chasing a train; a school girl running towards him; a woman left behind – waiting – as dawn bled, pink and terrifying, across the dark summer sky.

With his eyes shut, when midnight struck as dark as her eyes – when he knew she was thinking of him with her heart and her mind open – he was able to let go of his loneliness, if only for a moment.

One day, he would come back to her a man, and they would seek the kind of companionship that would make the lonely disappear.  One day, he’d find a new constant.  It was worth waiting for.

End.

 

 


End file.
